Can I Get Your Autograph?

I’ve never been one of those girls who attends concerts on a regular basis.  One concert every year or two has been my norm.  This summer, however, has been the exception.    

Artists amaze me.  All artists.  Painters, photographers, designers.  There’s just something about singers and musicians, though, that leaves me in a state of awe.  Maybe it’s the fact that part of their talent is an innate ability they were born with.  That they sound like heaven, roasted duck, and all things wonderful wrapped together yet have had little or no formal training.  All I know is I was not blessed with such talent, so I appreciate it in others. 

The cool thing is these artists are just like you and me.  Yes, they may be famous now, but they grew up running around in mismatched outfits like you and me.  They ate the nasty chicken nuggets at school, just like us.  They’ve had similar doubts, problems, heartaches.   Which is why I don’t understand people that fret over getting their autograph. 

I just want to start off by saying that I don’t dislike people who stand in line to get someone’s autograph.  I just simply don’t understand it entirely. 

 An autograph is often used as proof that you have, in fact, “met” this famous person.   When I meet someone new I try to get to know a bit about them.  Ask them a few questions, answer theirs.  Then, if I were to see that person again someday, I’d at least have some recollection of having met them.  And I would guess they’d recognize me as well.    

I don’t feel that standing in line and answering the one question an award winning singer might ask (How do you spell your name?) is “meeting” someone.  I know they would never recognize me again, and having their autograph isn’t going to change how great their music already is.  I still got to see them in concert, and if someone doesn’t believe that I got to witness their breathtaking performance because I have no autograph to shove in their face, then I say let it be.  Let it be, and know that while their criticisms and verbal attacks are approaches they use to feel better about their life, you were actually out living yours. 

C. Jam and the Mystery Man

If you’re a country fan, I admit that Wisconsin is the place to be.   With more than 4 big time festivals, you’re bound to spot at least one of your favorite country artists, without fail, every year.   You’re also bound to spot at least 4 dozen drunken hooligans wearing cut off jean short shorts and t-shirts that say “I’m in the mood”.  And hey, you might even be lucky enough to spot the 50 year old beer-bellied man wearing nothing but a grin and basketball shorts. 

I was lucky. 

I absolutely LOVE country music, so aside from all of the shenanigans caused by loud, obnoxious girls attempting to sing all the words to songs but fade out because they realize they don’t, it was pretty amazing.  I could do without those beach balls they hit around, though. 

Usually when I think of live singers, I picture okay performances with unpleasant acoustics and slightly off key singers.  Country Jam 2012 was anything but.  Honestly, I have not heard that many fantastic performers in a row before.  Chris Young, Trace Adkins, Luke Bryan, and Jason Aldean were absolutely phenomenal.  Really.  It takes a lot for me to say that.  But never once were there pitchy notes sung.  In fact, all of them hit more notes than I imagined.  The best part of the whole weekend was when Luke Bryan sat down and played and sung Adele’s “Someone Like You”.  If a person could actually melt, I would have been on the floor. 

I did run across more than my fair share of lunatics, but I also met a very nice man.  It’s one of the things I love about Wisconsin.  You can strike up a conversation with just about anyone and you have more than a 60% chance of receiving a friendly reply.  That’s exactly how it was with him.  Maybe we hit it off so well at first because we knew we would probably never see each other again and telling our life stories seemed harmless.  Regardless, we talked about topics that I normally wouldn’t talk about with someone unless I knew them for at least 2 months.  It was great, and at the end of the night we wished each other luck and parted ways. 

Attending my first Country Jam concert was quite the experience.  Many good and interesting encounters.  For those of you who have attended one, you know what I mean.  And for those of you who haven’t, I’d say go.  If just for the experience.  

And to the Mystery Man that I met, I send you my support and hope that your situation plays itself out for the best. 

The Woman Behind the Lemon Drop Cocktail

I hope everyone had a joyous fourth of July.  While the 4^th is far from my favorite holiday, I was definitely entertained. 

Before I jump in, I have to preface.  My Godmother is the most respected and remarkable woman I know, and she amazes me more and more every time I see her.   She’s one of those women little girls cherish and look up to.  When you think back to your childhood, your most vivid memories are of her.  Strong-willed, animated, independent, opinionated (but in the most valued and appreciated way), and anything but boring.  I’ve always thought this of my Godmother. 

It isn’t until your 20’s that you start seeing your family members in a different light.  I knew LeaAnn enjoyed unappealing, involuntary face deforming drinks (she’d let me taste sips of her Manhattans and Old Fashions when I was little), but I didn’t know at that time that she is the most knowledgeable bartender out there!  No, she’s not an actual bartender and can’t throw bottles through the air before pouring two drinks at once, but I’m guessing it’s because she can’t stand the idiots that down liquor for the sole purpose of getting drunk.  That, and bartenders’ sloppiness.  Never would she EVER waste good liqueur.  (In fact, my family gasps when someone spills their drink not because it gets all over the expensive laptop, but because it’s a waste of good alcohol).

Anyway, she’s done her homework.  You can put various alcohols in front of her and she will whip you up the most fantastic concoction you will ever drink. 

Like her Lemon Drop Cocktail. 

I loved it so much that I had to watch/ help her make her second batch. My mom loved it, too.  My little 9 year old cousin got her to jump on the large trampoline with him.  I could never get her to do that!  I was so shocked and astonished, I took the opportunity and joined them.  

I learned a few things about myself that day.  I don’t know all there is to know about each of my family members, and I want to continue talking with and learning about their personalities.  That, and I pee a little when I jump on large tramplines.  The alcohol, my unstoppable laughing.  Probably a combination of the two.  Whatever.  I’m not about to hide it. 

I hope you are given a chance to share a drink and a good convo with your family members.  Seek it out if you have to.  But really, if you get the opportunity, take it. 

LeaAnn’s Lemon Drop Cocktail

-Rim a large glass using a lemon wedge and raw sugar.  Fill with ice.

- Add:

 2 oz. limoncello

1 ½ oz. Absolut Citron Vodka

2 oz. Cointreau

2 oz. Sweet n Sour

-Garnish with a slice of lemon